|Author: The Sole Survivor||Original Source: SFACG|
|Translator: CatatoPatch||English Source: Re:Library|
PATREON ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW.
Abaddon of Sins: Hunter’s Tribe
The Demonic Werewolf Habona stood atop the corpses of countless Demonic Half-orcs, black fur bathed in fresh blood. The fur on her left hand was slightly singed while her right shoulder showed signs of corrosion. Her mouth hung slightly open as she stood there breathing heavily, her face caked with the blood of foes.
“Mistress Habona… are you alright?” The battle had just ended not too long ago when the Lizardwoman Weslin came climbing up the mountain of corpses and gently asked. “Those blasted Half-orcs are unforgivable -hurting Mistress Habona like that…”
“It’s fine… we are the invaders here.” Habona cut off her in a slightly curt tone.
“Even Mistress Habona’s impatient face is… so handsome!~” As she said that, Weslin squealed with both her arms squeezed together like a typical fangirl would, at least it would have been so if she were not a lizard…
Roughly a year ago, Mo Ke and his gang successfully broke the eternal seal on the Prison of the Dead. Those who were in that party with him mostly ended up in Abaddon, except for Mo Ke and a few others who ended up in Purgatory because of an accident.
The Three Hells were once a single world created by the Creator, but because the humans of ancient times committed a grave sin, the Creator destroyed the world with a massive flood. The land of that time was then split into the Three Hells, Purgatory, Abaddon and Gehenna. Of the three, Abaddon was the only untouched piece of land that wasn’t flooded. Strictly speaking, all lifeforms native to Abaddon all claimed ancestry from those ancient times.
Having never gone through the baptism of the apocalypse, the environment was anything but desolate. Nothing like the sulphurous lava lakes of Purgatory, nor like the biting cold winds of Gehenna.
Abaddon was a land filled with countless lifeforms. When Numila and Habona first led the party over to Abaddon, they encountered numerous dangers in the form of the hostile native lifeforms. Even so, it had to be said that the resources in this land were bountiful. Correspondingly, so were the number of inhabitants. Thankfully, the area they first landed at didn’t have too many strong lifeforms. Habona, having broken free of restraints of the Prison of the Dead, evolved rapidly, finally becoming a bonafide Seven-star.
“Tally our spoils and losses this time, we need to hurry back to the tribe.” Habona commanded thusly of Weslin, not at all fazed by the injuries on her body. “Have a messenger send back the battle report as well. Also, where’s Bacarel?”
“The messenger has been sent out. As for Bacarel…” Weslin shook her lizard tail a few times as she did her best to recall. “He should have left to interrogate the captives.”
“Since they are all Half-orcs, having him question them would be for the best. Rest up for now, once the messenger returns, we might have to bring these captives back to the tribe.” Habona turned around at that point to eye the area at which the captives were held. There were a horde of Demonic Half-orcs lined up with both their hands tied up. The ones in charge of watching them were a dozen or so Demonic Half-orcs -they were the subordinates Mo Ke took under his wing in the Prison of the Dead.
Weslin, however, was of a different mind than Habona. “Bring them back? We should just kill them now. These Half-orcs are all stubborn as a rock…”
That suggestion swiftly earned her a disapproving glare from Habona. “We are not strong enough yet. If we were to senselessly kill all our prisoners, that will just make them all afraid and we will never be able to recruit anyone.”
“That’s right. Mistress Habona, you’re so right.” A second. That was all it took for Weslin to forget her stand entirely as she reverently gazed up at the towering figure that was Habona, eyes strained so hard it wouldn’t be surprising if they suddenly turned into red hearts.
Habona didn’t pay her smitten gaze any attention though. She instead tore off an arm from one of the fallen Demonic Half-orcs and began gnawing on it. As she chewed, she continued, “Oh right, what route did we send the messenger off on?”
“The shortest one.”
“The shortest one…” Habona tossed away the arm, then disapprovingly eyed her fangirling subordinate once more. “Why did you send her off on that route? That’s Corvidae territory. I heard those crow men are on high alert recently…will our messenger…”
“She should be fine…” Having been admonished by her idol, her voice couldn’t help but sound a little dejected as she explained further, “Conceloes are able to fly faster than those Corvids. Besides, we need the report handed in as soon as possible while the Corvidae haven’t detected us.”
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“I understand your reasoning, but it’s still too risky.” Habona paused at that point, then after some thought, came to a swift decision. “Send someone out to check, ensure that the messenger doesn’t come to harm.”
After an entire year’s work, Numila had successfully banded the entire group into a new tribe.
Their settlement was hollowed out from an entire mountain. The design for such a massive undertaking came from No.5 who had mysteriously gained a massive repository of knowledge recently. In actuality, No.5 wasn’t all that keen on the project himself, at least not when he had to be the one supervising it. However, he was no match for Mo En… so that was what he got stuck with.
Because Mo Ke ended up in Purgatory, no one found it strange that their settlement was carved out of a mountain. In fact, the idea of staying in a house seemed weirder… after all, only those Demonic Half-orcs stayed in houses, and they weren’t exactly the most popular ones around. That was why everyone ended up being a caveman…
Deep within the recesses of their mountain settlement, Numila was currently holding a meeting with the rest of the leaders of their tribe.
The meeting room itself had no torchlights, but the walls were dotted with countless orange luminescent crystals. These crystals not only replaced the function of a torch, they were also an exotic accessory.
Right in the center was a table and a set of chairs carved out of the mountain rock itself, meaning that they were connected directly to the ground. Out of everyone present in the room, Numila was the closest to Mo ke. Not only that, with Flametail boosting her combat prowess, she was on par with Habona. Because of those two reasons, she became the head of this newly formed tribe.
“The messenger has just returned. Habona has successfully ambushed the northeastern Demonic Half-orc tribe and achieved a resounding victory.”
With the meeting in full swing, Numila was naturally the one who spoke up first. “But the messenger almost ran into a Corvidae patrol on her way back. Based on that, we can judge that those Corvids are starting to become more wary of us.”
“A five thousand strong Demonic Half-orc tribe is nothing to sniff at -it’s just too bad they underestimated Habona’s destructive power too much.” Seated to the left of Numila, it was Eugenia who continued the report, “Our next target should be those arrogant Corvids, but to do that…”
Having said that, she turned her gaze towards Julia seated opposite of her.
Julia, the Five-star Lust Demon wife of Mo En, nodded back at Eugenia then thought for a second before speaking up, “In terms of combat preparations, we should be fine. We stumbled across a number of lone Lust Demons not too long ago -there were even two Five-stars amongst them. I’ve already taught them the Dark Alchemy imparted to me by the Master. The results aren’t perfect, but the weapons they produce are usable. Throwing spears shouldn’t be an issue…”
“As long as we have those spears, it’s enough.” Numila commended her on her progress. “Throwing spears is just we need to fight those crowmen.”
“As of right now, our warehouse has twenty thousand throwing spears, that should be enough to take on their tribe in the upcoming war.”
The meeting had been progressing smoothly up till now. High above the table, the Evil Eye, Evilin gently swished its feelers about. Using its psychic powers, it directly spoke into the minds of those present. “If I humbly may ask of Mistress Numila, did the messenger mention how many Demonic Half-orcs were captured this time?”
“Roughly three thousand or so, but the majority are elderly or injured.” Her lips curled into a slight smile as she said, clearly satisfied by how it addressed her.
“You can leave the injured to me, I can use my psychic control on their brains and bring them back up to their peak performance.”
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“No!” It was Violet Snow, seated daintily atop the stone table, who raised her vehement objection. “We still have a lot of tribes to conquer. There’s no need for such harsh measures, just let them stay behind in the settlement to help out.”
Since leaving Mo Ke’s side, a whole year had passed yet Violet Snow was still that same tiny white dog. Because of her stature, she had to sit on the table itself in order for the others to see her…
“Worthless. No purpose. Deserves to die.” Seated to the left of Eugenia, Elena immediately voiced her opposition to Violet Snow.
In just a few words, she fully expressed her cruel views on how such captives should be handled. Those who had value should be kept. Those who were useless should just be killed to reduce the burden on the tribe.
Violet Snow immediately turned around to bark at Elena, “those who have surrendered are now our people.”
“Worthless. Waste of resources.”
Seeing as both sides were about to erupt into battle, Numila hurriedly whipped out Flametail and flew in between them. A wave of scorching heat surged outwards between the two ice-natured creatures, instantly reminding them of the fact that they were still in a meeting.
The two of them turned their noses away in unison and harrumphed. Despite their differences, these two adorable creatures were surprisingly in sync when it came to displaying their displeasure.
Still, their little argument had thrown the meeting off-course somewhat.
It was at that point that the normally silent Lizardman head, Weslin, suddenly came to the rescue. “Mistress Numila, since the Hunter’s Tribe has been destroyed, does that mean that Mistress Habona and my sister can return? After all, that region is connected to Corvidae territory, I’m afraid they…”
“They can’t return yet, I need you to immediately lead the reinforcements to their location. If the Corvidae haven’t discovered the destruction of that tribe, then you all need to find a way to ambush them. Naturally, I’ll leave the details up to Sister Habona to decide. If it’s really not possible, just return first.” Numila paused in thought for a second before continuing, “Before leaving, go to the warehouse and grab some throwing spears from Julia. I’ll have Elena and Eugenia lead the harpies to join the fight as well. Hopefully, this will be enough to deal them a lethal blow.”
“Alright.” Weslin nodded.
“What about the captives?”
“If you all leave to attack the Corvidae Tribe, then how should the captives be handled? We can’t just kill them all. Even Bacarel can’t control three thousand Demonic Half-orcs by himself.”
“If it’s about the captives, I can have that lazy Devil of mine help out.” As she said that, Julia eyed the decidedly empty seat to her right then rubbed her temples. “Since he won’t even come to the meeting, he should at least help out with this matter.”
“It’s decided then.”
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The meeting was finally over. The various parties swiftly left the room to start their new tasks, leaving only Numila behind. As she stood there alone with only her Flametail to keep her accompany as it revolved around her like a planet, she couldn’t help but reach out to grab the fiery weapon even if it was scorching hot.
“I miss you so much… darling.”
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